Warcloud - Fever Dream\n\nyou\'re stuck on a ship in a bottle quite unique\nyou live inside my painting and move once a week\ni switched the art around my friends are getting suspicious\n\nthe ballad of mr. edward hyde crooked scrooge\nhooligans and scalliwags crickets in ice cubes\nshiny red tricycle a rhinoceros skull\nold captain flash standing in the hall\nmc\'s is dull phantom in the steam\nrubbed the engine clean world ain\'t what it seems\nslinky falls down the stairs can\'t forget that\nchase you with a pink axe bullets you get gift wrapped\nmud flew over the house hot moistures\nfound a black wallet in a bucket of blue oysters\ni\'m in the air like the ozone bubble gum snowcones\nraccoon in the yard laying with broke bones\nthat\'s how I wrote poems gods be with the drug one\nawkwardly the sultan\'s daughter swallowed a lug nut\nit\'s no jive warcloud has arrived\nthe reflections of guns in his eyes be all live\nand this is wu tang carve it with my hook hand\nl.a. story flip a nickel at the bookstand\nit\'s full of crooks and dry hopes for sales\nsaw a giant squid fighting a whale in the hail\n\npistol in your face skeletons in the wires\nwe move like old vampires streetcar desires\nwalk with a monkey wrench body inside of lakes\nwe throw off jake like slugs in earthquake\nmice in a cape my rhyme is violent goofy\ni laugh like he threw money back into silent movies\nseven stone roses vodka in the toolbox\none heavy pistol came from the nut house\npineapple soda pop knock you off porches\nvillians with torches thrown to death on their horses\nmean warcloud breaks you into powder\nwho put the poison in mrs. fletcher\'s chowder\na weasel fell out of his hide death was holding y\'all\nwho pooped the crew they roast to death in a bowling ball\ngun you down on the street\nbullets that hit you through trucks don\'t even argue\nso stuck up that niggas just might rob you\ni laid in bed next to her black cat\n\nthings that go bump in the night my rap embargo\nis like cotton dolls fur feathers and marbles\ndiamonds and sea shells sown the size of cartwheels\nshowin large swords to maharaja he walks\nsuzy got shot in the sternum watch the spear\nstab you with a twelve inch knife behind the ear\nthen leave the scene in slow motion fun red\nsasquatch yeti battalion with one head\nscraps of cloth bits of paper pieces of string\nbiting on carrots in the spring\nit\'s like running through brick stone steel and concrete\nthen we can gun fight like the last days of long beach\na jeweled gold mask a helmet full of cold dust\nyou got teeth on black meat for crows\ndried out poems get scattered and grow with molds\nthe honest man is the crooked man and his clothes\nslave bitches squat in a circle around the war hawk\nstir fried vegetables harsh metal smoke rings\ncrops meant to hurt you eight sugar snap peas\nwhile I crept up on the rich to fire these\nwack wack wack with arrows i came to waste y\'all\nnow you look deep my cry rattled the great wall\na dirty old baseball roly-poly oldie

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